A family moved into a beautiful cottage on the top of the hill.

The area was beautiful and its scenery fitted a picture worthy of a fairy tale.

There was a town only half a mile down the hill. People came to visit them bringing gifts welcoming the small family of three, a young couple, and their 4 years old daughter.

They had a wonderful time, drinking, gossiping merrily.

When the party ended, an old man softly said.

"I know this is a wonderful house with wonderful scenery. There's a reason that it was unoccupied for so long. Never ever open a door to anybody after the sun has been set. Whoever it is a friend or for, never invite him or her in. You'll thank me later."

The old man warned and left.

They paid no need to his words as it seemed like a story made by older generations to keep young ones in.

For two weeks, nothing unusual happened.

Then came a stormy night.

The woman and her daughter were all alone. Her husband had gotten stuck in town due to a storm.

The young girl was scarred as lightning and thunder flashed and crashed filled by heavy rain.

The woman sat beside her daughter trying her best to comfort the little one. She herself was terrified and kept praying for her husband's safety.

There was a knock on the door.

Hoping her husband was back, she ran to the door.

Without asking, she opened the door to find a man in a long coat and a hat standing in the doorway.

"Good evening, ma'am." He politely greeted her.
"I am but a poor soul got trapped due to the weather. May I take shelter here?"

She was about to invite him in but then she realized something.

Man's clothes were dry. It had been raining for hours. There was no way his clothes can remain dry for that long in that raging storm.

She tried to see his face but his whole face was obscured by the coat and hat.

She started to feel uneasy.

Suddenly, her mind remembered the words of the old man.

She shut the door, bolted the lock, and ran back to her girl.

Then with the sound of the storm, thunder, and rain, the sound of knocking started.

"Let me in, ma'am." Man said.
She gripped her daughter tight.

"Let me in. Let me in." Voice continued.

She started crying.

The quality of voice change after an hour. It was scratchy and unnatural.

The same words repeated.

"Let me in."

"Go away!" The woman shouted once. "Please go away."

But the voices never stopped.

After midnight, voice changed simultaneously from men to woman's,  to children.

Her daughter was now crying. She put her hand on her daughter's mouth, muffling her cries, and kept quiet as much she could.

Voices never stopped.

At the witching hour,  on her daughter's window appeared a shadowy figure. It started to tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Tap, tap, tap.

Sets of three.

Again and again.

She held on for whole night. Crying and trying to protect herself and her girl.

The entity outside never came in.

Those taps, knocks, and voices suddenly downed when the dawn broke.

That woman and her girl had been safe during the visit of the mountain Sprite.